The Girl Who Lived
by HP Obsseser
Summary: What if Harry had a twin sister? Would things be different? This is the story of Claire Potter. Slightly AU, but should stick closely to the books.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

The Girl Who Lived

Prologue

It was a hot summer's day. I watched a cat slowly walking down the street. It reminded me of Professor McGonagall. In fact, it was almost identical,

except for the markings around her eyes. I'm Claire Potter. When I was a baby, You-Know-Who was after my brother. He decided to kill me as well.

He didn't exactly succeed. You see, when my mother died to save my brother's life, she died to save mine, too. Most people forget about me. I'm not

surprised. Harry did defeat Voldemort. Twice. The first time Harry defeated Voldemort, everyone thought I was dead, and Hagrid didn't find me in the

rubble of the half-destroyed house when he came to take Harry to our only living relatives, the Dursleys. Instead, it was a muggle couple called the

Merchants.(A/N: I know muggles aren't supposed to be able to see the Potter's house, but let's pretend they could) I have a story, and even though  
it isn't as exciting or amazing as my brother's, it's mine. I am the Girl Who Lived.


	2. Chapter 1: Before Hogwarts

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Amaryllis11: My first reviewer! Thanks! I hope you like it!

Chapter 1: Before Hogwarts

I heard the noise of the alarm clock on my bedside table. I turned the clock off, rolled out of bed, and got dressed. Then I went downstairs. It was a dark, gloomy day. I could hear the weatherman calling for rain on the tv in the Merchant's living room. Normal weather for mid-March. I was enjoying the quietness of the house, before Jake, the Merchant's snobby son, woke up. I could hear him from all the way upstairs, snoring. I walked into the kitchen. There were two plates and two pieces of paper indentifying which one was Jake's and which one was mine. Jake's, as usual, was filled with three stacks of pancakes, six pieces of bacon, one piece of toast that was smothered in butter, and a glass of orange juice. I had a mini box of cereal and a glass of milk. Ever since Jake was born, they spoiled him rotten, and mistreated me. Jake came rushing down the stairs. For a five year old, he was pretty fast.

He grabbed his platter, started eating, and was finished in less than two minutes. To be honest, that was pretty slow for him. I pushed my jet black hair out of my face and sat down. Jake started complaining about his orange juice while I started to eat.

Mrs. Merchant arrived in the kitchen just then. She is a small, fierce looking woman with chestnut brown hair and green eyes. Jake didn't look quite different. He was a small and thin boy, although he ate a lot. He also had chestnut brown hair and green eyes, but he had his father's boring look on his face all the time.

I was nothing like them. I had green eyes too, but they were a different shade than the Merchant's . I had black hair, which none of them had, and a love for inventing that they found strange. They just didn't understand the wonderful things I wanted to create and test, but couldn't. They forbid me from making these inventions, but I made them anyways. Sometimes it really felt as though the Merchant's were put on this earth to torment me.

The only solace I had in my life was my best (and only) friend, Hermione Granger. Her parents were the local dentists. When our friendship had started, some two years before that morning, Hermione and her family had been new to this small town. I remember the first time I ever met her.

I had been eight. Back then, Hermione had seemed small, helpless, and scared. (A/N: Just so you know, Hermione may seem a bit OC at times, as I put a bit of myself into her when I write) Some intimadating kids in our class( The same who liked to pick on me) had cornered her to pick on her appearance, which consisted of bushy hair and large front teeth.

I had wanted to confront these kids, to ask what their problem with her was, but I was so shy I had just hurried to class. That day at recess(A/N: I'm American and I don't know how British schools work, so please bear with me) I actually talked to her. Well, she was the one to talk first. I was startled when she asked my name. At school I was the oddball out, and no one really talked to me unless they had to.

She was new, though. She didn't know what people thought of me, and it didn't matter anyways. She needed a friend. I needed a friend. Simple as that. It was as though fate brought us together.

My opinion on her changed. That morning she had given everyone the impression that she was a bossy know-it-all. That wasn't true. She was just smart. Smart, and eager to show the world what she knew.

I was pulled out of my thoughts just then by Mrs. Merchant yelling at me to get my backpack. I didn't notice the bus was coming up the sidewalk. I ran out the door and just missed it. "Oh darn!" I shouted. "Wait up!" I followed after the bus, but it wasn't going to slow down for me. I knew that.

After walking to school, I went into Math Class and realized I forgot my calculator. Mr. Puck would kill me. Hermione whispered, " You can borrow mine." It was as though she had read my mind. It was slightly creepy how she did that. "Thanks." I whispered.

Then I realized I wouldn't need Hermione's. It was in my hand! Odd things happened to me quite a lot. It happened to Hermione, too. It was something we could never understand or control. Like when my hair caught fire when I was mad, Hermione making the plates fly when she was setting the table, or stuff just appearing in my hand.

I decided to ignore the fact it had just appeared. I had it, and that was what mattered. The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. In fact, the rest of the school year went pretty quickly. Hermione and I would be graduating primary school in June, and I was almost looking forward to it.

I was looking forward to it because it meant the end of my primary school years, but I wasn't because everyone said high school was even worse. On the day of my graduation ceremony, the Merchants didn't come, and I had to walk home. Hermione was very enthusiastic about having graduated and invited me over on Friday. I said yes, but I knew the Merchants would say no.

The following week, the Merchants enrolled me at Portland High School (A/N: If there are any schools by that name, it'll be completely coincidental, as I've never heard of any). I was relieved to learn Hermione would be going there, too. At least she would be there. I didn't really want to walk into a school full of strangers on the first day. So that was where I'd be going in the fall. Or so I thought.


End file.
